


Is that me? Is that you? [2017-2018 00Q Reverse Big Bang]

by NikaAnuk



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q Reverse Big Bang, Bad Flirting, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, Short, Trapped In Elevator, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 08:15:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikaAnuk/pseuds/NikaAnuk
Summary: Text that I wrote for the 2017-2018 00Q Reverse Big Bang.I'm so happy I could take part! Even if I'm terribly late.The idea is that Q is 007 and 007 is Q. It may be confusing, but I promise but it's not really. I mean it is but... Never mind.They are both on undercover jobs and they got trapped in an elevator.Please visit the author of the amazing art that was the base of this one: crystalwitcher on TUMBLR.





	Is that me? Is that you? [2017-2018 00Q Reverse Big Bang]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GhostCaravan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostCaravan/gifts).



> I'm not an elevator specialist, I apologise if my account of being trapped in an elevator offences anyone. If you know about mistakes I made, please let me know so I can improve! 
> 
> No beta reading, sorry!

[The ART](https://crystalwitcher.tumblr.com/post/169935414485/made-for-the-00q-reverse-big-bang-read-love)

 

Karen sighed, trying to wipe off her face; it was raining heavily the whole morning and she even had to take off her glasses to be able to see. Not like it helped a lot, of course. A second ago last person squeezed inside the elevator and off it went. Karen waited for the next one, wiping of her glasses into pullover. When she put them back on, she could see, with HD quality, the woman working on sixth floor and man with blond hair, with a technician's bag. Maybe he came to fix the third elevator – it never worked at the beginning on the week. From the other two, one elevator was not stopping on every floor, and the second one, got stuck on tenth floor, as usual, when the guys from eleventh and tenth had to chat on Monday morning.

 

The outside door opened, the wind brought rain. Karen looked towards the end of the queue, adjusting her bag; this, dark haired man, looking very young with a little too big leather jacket. She glanced at the elevators – one was still going up, but the other one was finally going down. It stopped on seventh floor of course – that was where people from eleventh had their canteen – and then finally reached ground.

 

“... mad at me!” the man explained, getting out of the elevator. The woman following him laughed.

 

“You always have some sot of problem...”

 

Karen got into the elevator, checking her watch, she was almost late now. The two men and woman from sixth followed after her.

 

“Which floor?” she asked the men.

 

“Ninth” the young one said.

 

“Seventh, please” the blond smiled.

 

Karen hit both, then sixth for the lady and then fourth for herself. Finally, they went up. The young man checked his watch impatiently, the blond one smiled at her, when he caught her glaze. She smiled back, and then left the elevator, searching in her bag for the card to open the door. She really hoped that the guy would fix the elevator.

 

***

 

They went up to sixth floor, the other woman leaving with short 'good bye'. Q watched the number 'seven' lit up... and the main lights went off. They stopped abruptly. He could hear an irritated sigh, the emergency lights flashed green in the darkness.

 

The walls seemed to move closer. The darkness pressed against him, he tried to take a breath, to calm down, but he could barely move. In attempt to calm down, he closed his eyes. The darkness was safer that way, it was his own. He heard the blood rushing in his ears. If he moves, he will touch the walls, he won't be able to turn. He won't be able to raise his arms, he was trapped. He felt too warm, the air was pressing against him, filling his lungs with cotton wool.

 

“Are you okay?” he heard the voice of the young man.

 

Q took shakily breath. “Yes. Yes I am okay” he replied, even thought that wasn't completely true.

 

“You sound like you are having a panic attack” the man said.

 

Q actually gritted his teeth. “How long are we going to be stuck in here?” he asked.

 

He focused completely on the other person. There was enough space here for the both of them. Enough space, enough air. He would be okay... He would be fine, just needs to breath.

 

“I thought you would tell me” the man admitted.

 

Q turned towards the source of the voice and that broke the spell. He could move. He raised his arms while it was still possible. He could move. He could take a step, and be close to the man, he could take a step back!

 

The suffocating feeling slowly disappeared. He could move, they were safe. With the ability to breath normally, the realisation came on him. Of course, he had the bag with the tools. He took out the torch and turned it on, filling the small space with strong white light.

 

“I don't think I can do much from the inside. Looks like some power outage, to me” he explained.

 

“Great... Does it happen here often?” the man asked.

 

“I don't know. I thought you work here?” Q asked, looking at the young man's badge.

 

In the unnatural light his face turned into wince.

 

“I am new” he explained uneasy.

 

Q nodded. It wasn't his place to be, to be honest, he only agreed to come here, for very delicate job, and turns out, he may be late, because of being stuck in an elevator. With some young man, who – but that could be only Q's guts – seemed to be fairly suspicious. Or maybe just nervous, because he got stuck on his first day at work.

 

“My name is James” he offered, trying to turn his thoughts from the subject of being trapped in an elevator. “Since we are stuck here for an hour, we can use some introductions” he explained with a shrug, when the young man eyed him suspiciously.

 

“I'm Holmes, Quentin Holmes” he finally said, reaching to him, his grip was pleasantly strong, his hand warm. “Not a fan of small spaces, are you? Or is it darkness?”

 

Q smiled at him. “Spaces. I get really scared, if I can't move...” Which brought him back to the day when they tried to bury him alive, before M finally managed to find him... He shivered.

 

“It's okay. I'm sorry, didn't mean to ask” Quentin patted his shoulder.

 

“It's okay. You would think that something happened twenty years ago and you can just forget...”

 

“There are things that you can never forget. Especially if they send you to the path you are on” Holmes added and Q looked him in the eyes.

 

They were very black, and the light played game on his face, making him look older than he was. Or than he seemed before. He definitely sounded older. Q winced and covered his hands with his own.

 

“Now, I apologise, for bringing bad memories...”

 

The young man cracked a smile. “Don't worry. It's nothing serious. You know, I met a guy once, in Morocco, he would cry like a baby, after he got drank. He lost his cat, you see, three years before. When he was sober, he would be completely cold about it, wouldn't even mention the animal. But once he got drunk, he would cry and sob, after the bastard, even though he hated him...” Quentin said. “What I'm trying to say... Is that people sometimes have very emotional reactions to really unimportant memories...”

 

Q nodded, feeling a little better. Holmes seemed to be better too, whatever happened, they were back on track. Possibly the shock or just unusual situation they ended up in.

Q sighed – Holmes was wearing very delicate perfume, with nutty notes, standing out more distinctly.

 

“What a day, huh?” he sighed, reaching for his phone. “Maybe I can get some access...” he murmured. He found his glasses in the front pocket of his jacket and put the on. “Let's see if they can get us out quicker...”

 

“I highly doubt it. Right now the power in the whole building should be cut off. It will take them at least an hour to get it back” Holmes explained, manoeuvring with something metal. Q looked up from his phone, to see, in the strong white light, the flat stomach where Quentin's shirt has been pulled up. The young man was on his tiptoes, trying to loose the metal panel on the ceiling.

 

“Are you sure it's legal?” he asked, looking up.

 

“It's not. But I can't just wait here.”

 

Q shook his head and checked the connection on his phone. This one was just like one of the agents – you tell them to wait, but they have to go now. You can't help it.

 

The signal was weak but should be enough. He checked the situation first – they were without power indeed, it may last a little longer... He went through the news and then connected to the main server at Q Branch.

 

The power has been cut off, just like Quentin said. And he was very much like an agent. And Q's guts told him, the young man didn't work here, just like he himself did not.

 

He searched for Quentin Holmes; the search was quick – the agent of Her Majesty, the Queen, currently working under MI6, going under the code name of 007. Previously involved in some private investigation work, currently on payroll of the Queen, kept for special missions; why he didn't know about him? Oh yes, K's pet project, not even M would know... She will be really angry... From the picture on the profiel, looked at Q even younger man, maybe in his early twenties, wearing glasses, with untidy hair, looking more like a student than an agent.

 

***

 

Quentin sighed. Of course it had to backfire. Every time when you let someone to do something, it will just explode into your face. They had only one job. One fucking job. To cut off the power, when he gets to the ninth floor. Not when he is _inside_ the elevator. But of course something went wrong. And he was now stuck with the useless tech guy, who was claustrophobic.

 

However he wasn't sure if he believed in the whole tech guy cover. His bag seemed too light, he clearly had no idea about the building, and he was wearing a bloody _sweater_ under his jacket. All things considering, Quentin was pretty sure he was not dealing with normal worker. The only questions remained: was he one of them? Was he from competition?

 

He looked at the man, the phone was illuminating his face, the screen visible in reverse in his glasses. 007 could see his own face in the reflection, younger and misshaped, but clearly his.

 

Interesting.

 

He gets stuck in the elevator just moments before planned attack, with a guy, who is searching him online on MI6 internal data base.

 

The panel finally moved and Quentin looked up. There was only darkness there.

 

“Are you really going to climb there?” James asked, putting his phone into his pocket.

 

“I can't really stay here.” 007 explained.

 

He jumped to catch the edge and pulled himself up. He crawled out and looked back inside. He had to squint his eyes, to protect them from the light.

 

“Are you coming?” he asked, reaching to him.

 

“Are you sure it's safe?”

 

“Of course not. But if you want to stay in...”

 

The man shook his head and picked up his bag. He turned the torch off and put it back in the bag. Quentin could hear him zipping the bag and then some brushing of the fabric. Finally the man jumped, grabbing the edge of the hole, just like Quentin did before him. 007 helped him up and, before the man could catch his breath, he pushed him against the wall, the muzzle of gun pressing against his stomach.

 

In the endless darkness, Q could only smell the man's cologne and hear his breath.

 

“Who are you?” he asked.

 

James chuckled.

 

“My name is James Bond” he said.

 

007 almost gasped.

 

“What the hell are you doing here? Q in the middle of London, instead of the office?” he let go of him.

 

He heard of Bond – he was Q, the head of the Q Branch, those who designed probably half of the gadget he had with him today. They pulled him up from Scottish Special Services, or so the people would say. He wasn't a trained killer, not even a field agent.

 

“I daresay, it's not your place” he added.

 

Q breatherd with relieve, once the gun has been moved away. “Thank you for noticing. No, it is not. But so it's not yours really. They are sending you mostly for international affairs, so I've read.”

 

“Martinez is an international business.”

 

“Who's Martinez?”

 

“Are you here for him?” Q frowned.

 

“No, of course not. They have some blue prints that we need...”

 

They reminded silent for a moment.

 

“What is your plan then?” Q finally asked.

 

“Go there, do what I need, and come back. But you should get back in. You will be safe in the elevator.”

 

“You will need an alibi” Q pointed.

 

“You offering?” Even despite the situation 007 couldn't stop from flirting. But only a little.

 

“What's there for me?”

 

“Dinner?”

 

Q smiled in the darkness. “Why not.” He sighed and sat on the edge of the hole. “I knew it would be a bad idea to get here...”

 

“I will close behind you.”

 

Q looked up towards the source of the voice, but there was of course nothing except of darkness. He jumped in, landing heavily on the metal floor. The echo sounded unnerving. 007 closed the ceiling and Q could head him walking to the wall and soon there was nothing there again. James sat down, took out the torch again, and checked Quentin's files again.

 

If nothing better, he could at least to get to know his date better.

 

LLE, 20-27.01.2018

 

 


End file.
